Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 132464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
The moment we hear the front door open and close, Josh smirks wickedly. “Guess what, my lovely fiancée?”
“What?”
He reaches into his pocket and tosses a poker chip onto the table. “It’s time for your bachelorette party.”
Forty
Kat
I’m sitting on the edge of the bed in our hotel bedroom, completely naked except for the startling array of diamonds decorating me, while Josh stands before me, still fully dressed in his immaculate tuxedo, looking like Richard Gere wishes he looked in Pretty Woman. Holy hell, he’s an utterly gorgeous man.
“It turns me on seeing you naked and dripping in diamonds,” Josh says, reaching out to caress one of my erect nipples. “Now I wanna see you naked and dripping down your thighs.”
“I’m already well on my way,” I manage to say. But I can barely speak. I’ve suddenly got the delicious idea that Josh’s reference to my “bachelorette party” means I’m about to behold the sexiest man alive re-enacting Magic Mike just for me, and I can barely keep it together at the mere thought.
Josh heads over to his laptop and “Kiss Me” by Lil Wayne begins playing.
Immediately, I giggle with nostalgia. This is the song Josh taunted me with (and brought me to orgasm with) on the dance floor during our first night out together in Las Vegas. “A walk down memory lane,” I say. “God, that feels like a lifetime ago.”
Josh grins mischievously. “That night was when I first realized you’re not like anyone else.”
I smile from ear to ear. “Are you gonna dance for me the way you did on the dance floor that night—only this time with a lot less clothes on, hopefully?”
“Ssh. No questions. That poker chip gets me my fantasy, not yours.”
I giggle. “Sure, Playboy. This whole day has been about your fantasies.”
“It has been.” He looks me up and down lasciviously and bites his lip. “And if it hasn’t been, then it sure as fuck is now. Hot damn, woman, you’re giving me a raging boner. Look at you. Fuck, you’re hot.”
I flash him a naughty smile. “Well, send that raging boner my way—I know just what to do with it.”
“That’s not how this bachelorette party works.”
“No?”
“Nope.” He trails his fingertip over my necklace. “If you want a show, you gotta earn it. Touch yourself for me—turn yourself on. The more turned-on you get, the more articles of clothing come off. Reach orgasm, and you’ll get the fully monty.”
“Oh,” I say. “So you’re a Magic Mike wind-up doll, powered by sexual arousal—like how in Monster’s, Inc. they powered the city with little-kid-screams?”
“Exactly.” He bends down like he’s gonna kiss me, but instead, he gently licks the cleft in my chin. “Guys in strip clubs work for dollar bills—the Playboy works for orgasms.”
I giggle.
“Now come on. No more chitty-chat. It’s time to play my game.” Josh squares himself in front of me and lowers his chin. “Power me up, baby.”
“Yes, sir,” I purr. I reach between my legs, my eyes fixed on his gorgeous face.
“Other hand,” he commands. “I wanna see my rock sparkling between your legs.”
Wordlessly, I switch hands, never looking away from his smoldering eyes.
A few moments later, a soft moan escapes my mouth that seems to flip the “on” switch on my Magic Mike wind-up doll. Josh begins swiveling his hips and singing along to the song, his eyes instantly on fire.
“Oh,” I say. “Work it, baby. You’re so sexy, you should be illegal,” I purr.
Damn, this boy can move.
Another moan involuntarily escapes my mouth, and, in response, Josh removes his jacket with a sexy flourish.
“Oh yeah, take it off,” I growl.
I let out a long, loud moan and Josh immediately begins unbuttoning his shirt, revealing taut muscles, sexy tattoos, and sexy nipples standing on end.
“Oh, Jesus,” I say. “You’re so freaking hot, babe.”
Josh peels off his shirt and throws it across the room, his body gyrating, his eyes devouring me. “Kiss me,” Josh sings along to the song, a devilish gleam in his eyes. “Kiss me.”
“Oh my God,” I sputter. “Come here and kiss me. I can’t stand it.”
“Make yourself come first.”
“Get the hell over here and kiss me,” I coo, “and I guarantee I will.”
Much to my happy surprise, Josh complies with my request, gyrating his body an inch away from my face to the bass-heavy beat of the music.
Like a woman possessed, I pull him into my face and devour his abs with my lips and tongue, my fingers fumbling frantically with his belt and zipper. Oh God, I’m hyperventilating with desire. He’s truly the sexiest man alive, especially when he dances.
When I’ve loosened Josh’s belt and pants, I yank his pants down, desperate for him—and I’m met with the unexpected sight of his huge bulge straining behind briefs emblazoned with... a large Batman logo right on his bull’s-eye.
“Holy... Batman, Batman!” I breathe.